Friendly Fear MASH
by Southern Quill
Summary: Synopsis:  Margaret on an early assignment at a remote base is attacked.    This takes place before Margaret and Donald were an item and before the 4077.  Rated M for language and rape.


**STORY - MASH FRIENDLY FEAR**

**Author's Notes: Rated M for language and rape.**

**Synopsis: Margaret on an early assignment at a remote base is attacked.**

**When a soldier is hit by bullets from his own side, it's called "Friendly Fire". **

**Hence the title.**

**This takes place before Margaret and Donald were an item and before the 4077.**

Margaret woke up at 3AM to the call of nature. She rolled over and groaned. Her bunk mate didn't stir. The nurse in the bunk below could have been in a coma, her breathing slow and steady. Margaret touched her shoulder. Nothing. There was a strict rule. Never go anywhere alone.

The latrines were 20 feet from the bunk house. Margaret's bladder shrieked in agony as she hopped undecidedly from one foot to the other.

They had had a long hard day working side by side. Margaret's hand stopped, inches from shaking her bunk mate awake. _It's not fair to wake her up_. Slipping her bare feet into her boots, she opened the door and listened intently. _I'll be careful. It'll just take a minute. _The night was noiseless. Even the crickets had gone to bed. Moonlight was pouring down on the inviting latrines. Peering both directions and seeing no one, she dashed out to the toilets in her pajamas. She pushed the door open on the first stall and relieved herself.

She didn't hear a soft male voice low and gravely cutting through the foggy night, "Wait till she's done. Less messy that way."

Margaret finished and opened the door and stepped out cautiously. She didn't want her a stray guard to catch her violating orders. This one time, surely won't be a problem. She stifled a yawn and tensed, ready to dash back to the warmth of her bunk.

"Now." A man with large hands grabbed Margaret from behind. An arm catching her throat and one hand over her mouth smothering her scream. She instinctively fought, lashing out with an elbow, reaching up scratching, kicking around trying to hook his leg and pull him down, desperate to gain any advantage over the attacker.

Another man stepped up from the shadows and grabbed her legs. "Let's go."

She felt their arms wrapped painfully tight around her as the two men jogged away carrying her terrified and helpless into the night.

Deep in the woods, the men stopped. They stood behind her in the darkness. They shoved her to her knees. One of them cruelly pulled her arms behind her, and leaned forward and licked her face. One of the men pulled out a length of rope. Her heart was pounding in fear.

_Oh, no. I gotta talk my way out of this. I can stop this. I know I can_. Psyching herself up, she began, "Boys, that's one good joke ya pulled back there. Good one. Now, let's get back to the barracks before we all get KP duty."

The men pulled her wrists over her head and started tying her wrists together. _Oh, shit_. "Guys, GUYS! That's enough. This stops NOW." She used her most commanding authority voice. She struggled trying to raise herself to her feet. "Come on guys, play time's over, you've scored a good laugh, now..." One of the men shoved a handkerchief into her mouth and tied it behind her wild tousled hair.

_No. NO! _A coarse cloth sack came down over her head blocking her vision.

_I can't see! I can't breath! _She furiously puffed air in and out of her nose. _You can breath. Breath_. She told herself _They don't want me to see their faces. _She realized. _Oh. Fuck. I'm fucked. Think think. _

Desperately she drew in a deep breath. _I don't think they're going to kill me or they wouldn't bother with the sack, so there's one positive. Think. Fight._

Her feet kicked furiously, trying to sweep out and hit the men. A boot kicked her back forcing her face down onto her stomach. She could feel one man as he knelt down behind her and turned her over. _Oh, shit. No no no no no_. "Mmmggghhhhh" was all she could get out from under the gag and the sack.

One of the men knelt behind her and wound his arms under hers pinning her back against his chest. Shaking, she paused, calculating the best way to escape. The man behind her was medium build, but wiry. She could smell his aftershave as he pressed her to his chest. His grip tightened under her arms.

She pushed her head forward, then suddenly reared back slamming his head with all her might, intent on smashing the nose of the man who held her in his tight grip. She connected with a satisfying cracking sound. There was a muffled curse. Her bound hands twisted against the rope as she tried to nail him in the ribs with an elbow.

She tried smashing his face again, but this time his hands caught her head. He slapped her through the sack. "Stop it you bitch!"

The other man's voice chilled her. "For GODS sake hold the bitch, so I can get her pants off."

Rough hands grabbed her booted feet.

Thrashing wildly, she tried to buck them off. "Shit," the man said. "Hold Still!"

She could feel her panic escalating and desperately tried to stop hyperventilating.

The left boot was pulled off first. She gave a solid kick and she connected with the unseen man.

"You damn whore. You know you want it." He said as he pulled off her other boot.

She felt the man holding her from behind laughing. "Hurry up, I want my turn."

All reason left her. _I will not hold still. No. _"Noggrfhhhh" her muffled cries filled the night air. She gave every ounce of strength she possessed to fighting, twisting, turning, kicking. _You will not do THIS to me! _She felt the cold hit her skin as the man at her feet peeled her pajama pants off.

The man pushed her legs apart and pressed his crotch against the thin material of her panties gripping her bucking hips, trying to quell her fury.

Panic, and overwhelming fear ran though Margaret. Nothing she did was stopping this. It was like a train barreling down the tracks. Fighting with all her worth, using every trick and every bit of training she could remember still had her bound tightly, held between two men intent on ripping off her pants and rape.

"STAND DOWN!" A man's voice rang out. Margaret was dropped unceremoniously in the dirt.

She pulled her knees up to her chest and tried to scramble away.

"Easy there nurse." The man's voice boomed. Margaret felt a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

She reached up with her bound hands and jerked the sack off her head. Looking up as she worked on removing the gag, she saw the company commander Donald Penobscot standing shoulder to shoulder with the two attackers.

She got the gag untangled and searched around in the dark for her pajama pants.

The men watched her silently as she dressed with her hands still bound. She was standing in the dark woods, covered in sweat and dirt, shaking with fear and had absolutely no idea what had just happened.

"Nurse," Major Penobscot looked at her with an intensity that frightened her as much as the moment the two men grabbed her outside the latrine. "Consider this an object lesson."

"Wha what?" she asked confused.

Major Penobscot grabbed her hands bound in rope. "This army has rules." His face tightened. "Women never NEVER go anywhere alone. Even for a 3 AM leak"

She protested "I didn't want to wake..." His voice thundered "You will NOT justify your failure to follow orders."

Margaret's eyes spilled over with tears. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

"You're damn straight you won't. I have enough problems on my hands without throwing

rape in the mix. So DON'T make it easy!"

She sniffled. Trying desperately to stop crying and shaking.

He bent down and started pulling off the rope from her hands. His voice softened. "I have two MPs to cover this whole compound. The only way I can keep you women safe, is if you cooperate and follow the rules." He pulled the last piece rope off and gestured at the two men.

"You'd be safer with those men than anyone I can name." He pointed back towards the camp. "I have over 100 sex starved men under my command."

Major Penobscot started walking back to the barracks expecting them to follow.

His face hardened. "The facts are that sexual assaults are common on other bases." He shook his head. "Most women don't even report it."

Margaret dried her tears and nodded, "Because everyone will _look_ at them and know."

The commander replied, "Sometimes. How would you have identified your attackers tonight? "

The three men and Margaret walked through the cool night.

She shook her head. "I couldn't. I didn't see them."

"Exactly. Bad things happen out there Margaret."

It was the first time he called her by name. Her face warmed.

"I'm counting on you to help me keep these nurses safe on my base."

"Ok." She gritted. "I get it. Lesson learned, Major Penobscot."

He looked at her sharply. "Yes, especially my orders about NEVER going anywhere alone EVER.

She hung her head and shivered as they walked through the mist.

The commander continued, "I have found that sometimes you have to show a soldier the consequences they can face for not following the rules." He stopped and faced Margaret. "I'm not sorry for scaring you like that. You need to be scared. Fear will keep you safe and keep you alive. Do you understand?"

Margaret nodded.

"Remember that fear. Hold on to it, the next time you're tempted to run to the latrines in the middle of the night."

"I will." she timidly offered.

And she did.

**A/N Complete short story. **

**According to Time Magazine:**

**"The Pentagon's latest figures show that nearly 3,000 women were sexually assaulted in fiscal year 2008, up 9% from the year before; among women serving in Iraq and Afghanistan, the number rose 25%. When you look at the entire universe of female veterans, close to a third say they were victims of rape or assault while they were serving.**

**The Pentagon estimates that 80% to 90% of sexual assaults go unreported, and it's no wonder. Anonymity is all but impossible; a Government Accountability Office report concluded that most victims stay silent because of "the belief that nothing would be done; fear of ostracism, harassment, or ridicule; and concern that peers would gossip." More than half feared they would be labeled troublemakers. A civilian who knows her assailant has a much better chance of avoiding him than does a soldier at a remote base, where filing charges can be a career killer - not for the assailant but the victim. Women worry that they will be removed from their units for their own "protection" and talk about not wanting to undermine their missions or the cohesion of their units. **

**And then some just do the math: only 8% of cases that are investigated end in prosecution, compared with 40% for civilians arrested for sex crimes. Astonishingly, about 80% of those /convicted/ are honorably discharged nonetheless.**


End file.
